


Code

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Dystopia, Ficlet, Gen, Supernatural Elements, Wrangling as a Metaphor For Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 17:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8762125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The night was silent, broken only by the patter of raindrops on the window and the clicking of fingers on keys. Light from the computer screen lit the room, and set eyes and the determined expression on the face of the woman who was readying to kill again.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No explanation. No apology.

The night was silent, broken only by the patter of raindrops on the window and the clicking of fingers on keys. Light from the computer screen lit the room, and set eyes and the determined expression on the face of the woman who was readying to kill again.  
  
Sometimes it fascinated The Anonymous One that nobody could see it. The symbol of AO3, with the head detached from the body beneath; every banner red, the colour of blood. But of course, people dressed it in alternate skins and heard their alternate explanations, and it was all so easy.  
  
Everything was code, when you came down to it. Whether it was computer code or genetic code, everything came down to smaller pieces that could be put into order. A few clicks of the mouse, and she had her target.  
  
The message had been simple, one word and one IP address. The word: dissent.  
  
No other explanation was needed.  
  
She could already feel the power building, prickling in the back of her mind. As soon as she had used it once, it had been a rush, a thrill like she had never felt before. Wrangling tags had been one thing, just the introduction, just getting her mind used to the shapes and patterns of thought. When she had moved to wrangling people, it was like her brain had come alive.  
  
Her mind burned down the IP address, racing towards her target. The crime did not really matter; she had barely glanced at the word. What mattered was that the chairs ordered, and she obeyed.  
  
She found the flesh, the blood, the bone, and _wrangled_.


End file.
